


Dream Come True

by Writing-Classic-Rock (writingfanfic)



Category: The Beatles
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-22 13:39:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8287655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingfanfic/pseuds/Writing-Classic-Rock
Summary: George is avoiding the reader... but why? For the prompt 'Hey Can I request an nsfw imagine where one of the boys has a wet dream about the reader and has a hard time facing her?? Thank you





	

“Is George acting weirdly to you?”

You settle down next to John on the hotel lobby couch, and he shakes his head.

“No, love, but then again, I’m not of the curvier persuasion.”

“Yeah, you are,” you tease, leaning over to ruffle his hair, and he bats at you.

“Gerroffoutofit. Nah, he’s not… what’s he bein’ like with yeh?” You shrug, and look across the room. George seems absolutely fine right now; he’s drinking a cup of tea and bantering with Ringo about something. “Go on, love, tell Uncle Johnny.”

“…ugh,” you groan, and John grins. “Okay, well, he was all okay with me until this morning… and then at breakfast he was ignoring me, and now…” John whistles forcefully through his fingers, interrupting you.

“Hazza!” he shouts, and George looks over as you try to frantically shush him. His eyes lock on you and you _see_ the flush spring to his cheeks as he looks away. “It’s simple. He’s in love with yeh.”

“Fuck off, John,” you mumble, and he gasps.

“You just aren’t a lady, are yeh?”

The truth is… his comment are just worryingly close to the bone. You have a bit of a _thing_ for George… and you hope he hasn’t guessed it.

* * *

“George, why are yeh avoiding (Y/N)?”

John’s voice is like a fucking air raid siren, and you want to crawl under the table and die. Everyone looks around, except for Brian, who just sighs in exasperation and carries on writing whatever it is he’s writing, and then George clears his throat.

“I’m not, lad. Why are you all over ‘er?”

“She’s gorgeous.” You risk a look up – John’s clearly not interested, he’s more like a big brother to you, or a big bother, but he’s smirking at you. “Who wouldn’t?” He winks at George, and George’s pale, sharp cheeks flush a deep red as he looks away. “You would, Geo, don’t lie to me.”

“Shut up, yeh twat,” George snaps, and John grins at you, before leaning in.

“He’s nuts about yeh,” he whispers, close to your ear, and you shake your head. “Oh, c’mon, love, you can tell…” Your eyes flick towards George, and you can see that he’s watching the two of you, and there’s a sour expression on his face. “Yeh get all red.” He strokes your cheek, and George abruptly looks away. “Want me to prod him to ask yeh out?”

“I could ask him,” you reply, and John rolls his eyes.

“If yeh wanna be all _feminist_ about it,” he scoffs. “Go on then.”

* * *

“George…?”

George is alone, staring dolefully at the pitiful buffet that has been put on for the lot of you at the venue, when you sidle up to him.

“Oh! (Y/N)…” He colours deeply in the cheeks once more, and you inhale. You’re suddenly not sure about ‘asking him out’. But you do want to check you haven’t offended him. Trust John to get you all worked up – you’d almost entertained the fact that Geo might be interested before remembering that this was reality and George was far more likely to just be offended that you’d done something. But as you stare at him, you wonder for a moment if what John said might be true. “Uh… are yeh okay?”

“Yeah, Geo, I am.” You feel your own cheeks begin to darken, and wince a little. “Uh… you’re a bit quiet today. John keeps pointing it out…” You see his face fall a little, and pause.

“John would, wouldn’t he, like,” he mutters, and you clear your throat.

“Well, I wanted to know if you were okay, if I’d upset you or-”

“No!” George gasps, and reaches out. “No, you’ve not done anythin’, love.”

“ _And they called it, puppy-lo-o-o-o-ove…_ ”

John’s arm slides around your waist, and you look over at him, silently cursing the man who has apparently made it his mission to cockblock you through trying to hook you both up. George rolls his eyes.

“Hope you two are making it up,” he winks, and as George storms off without a word you turn to him, poking him in the chest. “…ey, what’s this then?”

“John, for the love of God, he was just about to tell me what the matter was and you interrupted,” you snap, and John steps back, looking defensive at you. “You’re all over me, and I know it’s just because you’re worried, but…” You freeze. “Wait. This started this morning.”

“Yeah…” John mutters, sullenly staring at you up through his fluffy fringe.

“It’s… oh my god, you’ve been all over me all day. If he does like me-”

“Oh!” John gasps, and then his brow furrows. “C’mon, love, Geo knows that I’m always all over birds. Part of my rogueish charm, like.” He beams, and you privately remind yourself to kick him in the shins. “Go talk to him. I swear to god I won’t interrupt, love.” He hugs you tightly. “Oh my god, I’m so excited, like…”

“Shush, I’m gonna go find him,” you say, and he hugs you again. “Gerroff!”

* * *

George’s door is slightly ajar, and you take a deep breath before placing your hand on the doorhandle-

“-(Y/N)’s gettin’ all suspicious, like.”

-and freeze.

“Well, Geo, lad, she’s gonna. You’ve spent all day freezing her out, like.”

“Well, I didn’t know it was that obvious, like!”

You hold your breath – that’s Ringo in there, and you put your fingers to your mouth. Suspicious of what? That he likes you? Your stomach flips, and you nearly do a victory dance.

“Well, why are you all funny about her, like? Yeh’ve been acting all weird since yeh decided to take a bath at half six this morning, lad.” Ringo sounds disapproving, and you hear George give a deep groan of despair.

“Lad, that was…” He pauses, and you wonder what could’ve made him get up so early. Lovesick? “I had a dream. About her.” Your heart flips, and you could sigh. A dream about you? That’s so romantic. “One of… them dreams.”

It takes about thirty seconds for the realisation to hit you like a truck.

Your stomach flips, and you feel a shiver run through you from head to toe – George thinks about you like… _that_? Wow… your heart pounds and then you bite your lip to prevent you giving your presence away to the two in the room. You… you barely even thought he liked you romantically… then you shake yourself. He can’t help what he dreams about…

“Do you like her, then?”

“I…” The hurt in his vice gives you your answer. “What does it matter?”

“Huh?”

“She’s all over John. You’ve seen her.” He sounds so glum, and you can’t bear to hear it. You take a deep breath and knock on the door.

“Geo?”

You hear the tiny panic as George and Ringo flap at each other, and then a reply comes.

“Uh, come in.” You hear a quieter ‘ _sod off, Ringo!_ ’ and the door opens to reveal the aforementioned drummer, who gives you a big, slightly-too-sweet grin, before scuttling off. You watch him for a second before walking in to see George perched awkwardly on the windowsill, one foot on the bed.

“Geo?” you say quietly, and he looks out of the window.

“Hey, (Y/N),” he mumbles, and you sit on the bed at his feet, before gently stroking his leg. He starts, but he doesn’t move away. “Yeh ‘kay, like?”

“I heard. Like… what you were saying to Ringo.” He doesn’t respond – what can he really say? – but he flushes red, still not looking at you. “…you like me?” He still doesn’t respond. “Because I like you.” You feel his leg tense beneath your fingers. “Not John.”

There’s silence from him, and you carry on.

“John says I should wait for you to ask me out. But it’s the 60s, Geo. I think I could ask you. Can’t I?” you say gently, and he exhales, before pushing himself down from the windowsill to land on the bed next to you.

“Yer always so close with John, and he doesn’t… he’s not normally ‘friends’ with birds,” he says quietly, and you nod. You know it. Yours’ and John’s sibling-esque relationship is a fragile bubble that you pray every day doesn’t burst. “Are yeh sure?”

“Very sure,” you say quietly, and lean over, kissing him on the cheek gently. “And… I’d love to know what happened in this dream of yours…” You look him in the eye, and he bites his lip.

“Let me take yeh on a date,” he says, and smiles a little. “Let’s see how it goes. Dreams can keep.” He kisses you, on the lips, and as your heart speeds up you hear the door open wide.

“ _Yeh had a dirty dream about my little sis?!_ ”


End file.
